The Postcards, Wrapped with a Rubber Band and Stored in a Box, Waited...

.

Writings on Found Postcards

A breathtaking view of ocean and cliffs, but
I’m off to see the elephant seals

We ferried Lake Windermere, and stopped
to see Beatrix Potter’s home
You must come see this treasure house
I’d love to have you stay my dear
All the guests assemble for tea at four

The sun is out, the mosquitoes are fierce—
Don’t you think the saguaro is a most impressive beast?
I slept out every night except one when it rained
Right now I’m having luncheon on Cannery Row,
Steinbeck would never recognize it
For Christmas dinner we shared a bottle of wine, barbequed fish,
spicy noodle salad and pineapple

Haven’t had a lobster in a dog’s age

Trying to get to Joy Harjo’s Flight of he Mind workshop

“I am,” writes Adrienne Rich, “the lover and the loved,
home and the wanderer, she who splits
firewood and she who knocks…”
We spent two days in Oslo
Stayed with a poet


It’s raining again in Tokyo
If it keeps raining I will build an ark
I’m off to see the elephant seals

Some changes in my life

We’ve bought an apartment in Rome
Come and visit
I like your particular scope and focus
Love Egypt and wish we were here a month

As you ride your bike in Simbawa it is not uncommon
To see families of monkeys



Six hundred years ago this Ming
dynasty dragon was inlaid on a wall—
We spent the morning in a small Buddhist fishing village
but soon we depart for a place
on the border of Laos and Burma
to trek among the hill tribes

Made it across Inner Mongolia
and traveled back in time one thousand years

I’m off to see the elephant seals

Mom, when you wrote your book
you wrote about the moon dust
in your pocket
The other day—while doing laundry—
I also found some